


Irregular Regular

by kii_babe



Category: VA-11 Hall-A (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Smut, M/M, criminally underrated ship right here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:15:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28998891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kii_babe/pseuds/kii_babe
Summary: Mario swivels his head slowly, like he's moving through thick syrup. "No, I... My bike. I don't wanna leave it...""Well, you sure as hell aren't driving it out of here. Why don't I walk it inside, lock it up in here for the night? We've got good security, after all." Nevermind the fact that she had no clue how to get it through the door. They'd figure it out."I can drive." Or maybe they wouldn't have to. Dana looks at Gillian with a raised eyebrow. Mario looks at him with something much different.--Gillian has a new regular.
Relationships: Gillian/Mario (VA-11 Hall-A)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Irregular Regular

**Author's Note:**

> please go easy on me this is the product of three insomnia fueled nights
> 
> enjoy the rarepair!!

Jill's absence, whenever she should happen to take a day off, always seems so much larger than it ought to. Maybe that was just the extra work talking, maybe it was that Dana came accustomed to hearing her voice. Whatever the case, the bar always felt a little odd and a little empty.

Plus, she missed eavesdropping. Just a little bit.

That's not to say she couldn't listen in on Gillian chatting away with the patrons, of course. It was interesting to discover how he interacted with Jill's regulars. Gil was livelier in a way, and not just when he spoke. Even when making drinks, he moved sharper. His banter was wittier, although he shared less about himself.

Between the phone calls, inventory, and tending to the vending machines, Dana would catch bits of the latest: Deal and Betty squabbling over drink choices. Dorothy's latest misadventure, which apparently took place upside down, to which Gillian smartly remarked, "Was your client a vampire bat?"

Once it started edging towards closing time, Dana got a package she was looking forward to, which she promptly plucked off of the counter with a wide grin. The delivery boy, Mario, always stayed behind for a few drinks after dropping her wares off— So she was familiar enough with him to just wave and give her thanks before disappearing to examine her loot. 

Half an hour ticks by before an odd bout of giggling from the bar grabs Dana's attention. Ever the good listener, she presses her ear against the door.

"That's so stuhuh- _upid!_ " That's definitely Mario. He sounds a lot more wasted than Dana usually knows him to get, too.

Gillian's own laughter mixes in with Mario's drunken, bubbly giggles. "It's true! A twenty dollar bill!" Ah, so he's telling _that_ story. Always a hit with the intoxicated. Mario seems overly tickled about it, though. 

"No waaay. Y'gotta be exaggerating. Nobody carries around that kind of chump change!"

"Hey, money is money. Some people live off of the paper stuff."

"Ooho, like you?"

"Who was talking about me? I said some people."

"I was talkin' about you. How do I know you aren't the crazy dollar guy? Where are you hiding your bills? Lemme see em, c'mon—"

"Hey, hey! I don't have paper money on me, I told you. Now— C'mon, careful with that, you're gonna spill it!"

Okay, she's way too nosy not to see this. Dana manages to peek through a crack in the door, and she's not disappointed by what she sees. 

Mario has an unfinished Fringe Weaver in one hand, and Gillian's tie in the other. Gil is oddly accommodating to this— He seems a lot more concerned with the drink almost spilling out of its glass than the proximity. He reaches for it, but then Mario pulls away, cups the glass with both hands, and knocks back the rest of the liquid. Gillian watches with mild amusement.

Mario peers into his empty glass for a moment, and then holds it back out to Gillian, waving it around. C'mon, some more. Of course, a bartender can tell when a patron hits their limit. "Okay, I actually think that's enough Fringe Weavers for you tonight. We're almost closing, anyways."

"Awww, but—"

This is Dana's cue to step outside like she hadn't just witnessed the most sexual tension since last night's soap opera. "Hey, Mario. You need a taxi? You look like you inhaled our whole Karmotrine supply."

Mario swivels his head slowly, like he's moving through thick syrup. "No, I... My bike. I don't wanna leave it..." 

"Well, you sure as hell aren't driving it out of here. Why don't I walk it inside, lock it up in here for the night? We've got good security, after all." Nevermind the fact that she had no clue how to get it through the door. They'd figure it out.

"I can drive." Or maybe they wouldn't have to. Dana looks at Gillian with a raised eyebrow. Mario looks at him with something much different.

"Okay, since when could you drive a motorcycle?"

Gil squirms, unsurprisingly. That boy is just a secret wrapped in more secrets. "Since... Well, that doesn't matter. I can. I'll clock out and take him, and grab the cab back." A pause. "If you don't mind, Mario?"

Mario starts to nod, processes, and then shakes his head vigorously. "No, not at all. S'long as she gets home safe, that's fine by me. I'll just ride in the back." There's a new vigor in him, seemingly. It could just be all the Karmotrine, but he's staring right at Gillian like he's holding a whole car above his head. It's admiration, and the rare feeling of honor to be able to learn something about Gil: He can ride a motorcycle. 

Once Gillian is all clocked out, he hoists Mario up and holds him steady, keeping an arm around his shoulders while he wobbles in place. "How many drinks did you give the poor man?" Dana asks, stepping to the other side of him and helping them walk out to Mario's bike.

"Two big Fringe Weavers and a Fluffy Dream. I'm too used to Jamie's tolerance, I didn't think to cut him off until he was already gone." They lift Mario onto the back end of the seat, and Gillian hops in the front. 

Dana plucks the helmet off of the handle and hands it back to Mario. "Just don't crash this thing, alright? I don't want to have to tell Jill you became a meat crayon on her day off." 

"Awh, don't worry..." Mario drawls, scooting forward to keep his balance. "I don't live far, I can give the directions in my sleep." As assuring as that is, Dana's been running a bar long enough to treat the words of the inebriated with a few grains of salt. "Y'have a good night Miss Zane. Enjoy your package, tell Jill I said hi... Don't ever stop sellin' your sweet stuff!" 

The bike's engine roars to life, and the rumbling nearly makes Mario lose his balance. He saves himself by looping his arms around Gillian's middle and holding on. 

Man, Dana would have paid real good money to get a look at Gil's face just then. Unfortunately, the two of them speed off before she can even make a smart quip about it.

Ah, well. She can wait.


End file.
